


Pop

by TheBottom_Sent_ByCyberlyfe (VenusTheMarvelTurtle)



Category: TMNT (2007), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Egg Laying, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Temporary Trans Character, Trans!Genitals, tcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23057806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenusTheMarvelTurtle/pseuds/TheBottom_Sent_ByCyberlyfe
Summary: GiftFic for (Dorcas_Aveline_Hill)!Fandom: TMNT‘Verse: 2007/3, 17+A/B/O, MPreg, M/M
Relationships: Donatello/Raphael (TMNT), Leatherhead & Michelangelo (TMNT), Leonardo/Miyamoto Usagi, Leonardo/Raphael (TMNT)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 74





	Pop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dorcas_Aveline_Hill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorcas_Aveline_Hill/gifts).



> If this isn't your jush, exit stage right. Hate will be giggled at on Discord!

It happens in the span of a week, and it goes like this. 

\--

The first time Raphael shuddered awake, he thought it was the middle of the night, and he forgot that it was early March in New York thanks to the veritable _thunderstorm_ of hormones he found himself licking from the corners of his beak. 

“Euuggrhg..” he groaned, throwing a thick wrist over his face in a drowsy, vain attempt to stay slumbering. Twisting to bury his face into his blanket didn’t help block the stench- if he’d had a mattress, maybe, but fucking netting betrayed him in the weirdest ways sometimes- and disance and his own rapidly reacting scent clouded it so he couldn’t immediately clock who it was. 

His mind leaped to blame his youngest brother. ‘ _Fuck. Couldn’t he’a gotten his fix at LH’s place? I hate wakin’ up to the smell of cum,_ he snarled, exhaustion making his thoughts cruel. 

Mikey’d been the second to present as, in what their resident egghead had helpfully termed their ‘uniquely mutated secondary gender selection’, the “Omega” his position in the family indicated he might be. The youngest Hamato had thankfully been making goo-goo eyes at Leatherhead around the time his cloaca started getting warm, so Raph knew what was coming early and managed to keep the instinctual bullshit to a minimum.. most of the time. 

It never helped when they decided to fuck downstairs. Last time Mikey brought his trysts home, Raph had woken up damnear knocking on his little brother's door with his dick, temples throbbing and body aching for things he had no right to want. 

In any case, he was too awake to ignore it now. Grumbling, half aroused, Raphael rolled out of his hammock and staggered through his morning routine before kneeing his door open and going downstairs. 

‘ _Splinter’ll be pissed, at least. Leo might chew ‘im out, too.’_

This entire situation was only a year or so old, but if felt like their family had been irreparably changed the day Raphael woke up with a bloody nose, a raging erection and the absolute certainty that if he didn’t impregnate something in the next few moments, ugly things would occur. They were trying to handle things gracefully, but with good ol' turtle luck screwing everything up so royally, it was a miracle they'd made it this far.

Unsurprisingly, Mikey was playing chef in the the kitchen, squinty blue glare focused on something he was poking at in a frying pan while it hissed and bubbled. He didn’t notice his brother until the dish towel lobbed in his direction made hard contact with the side of his sea green bicep, jostling his grip and earning Raph his official first dirty look of the day. 

“Bruh! You’re gonna make me burn my toenails off!” Mikey squawked, returning the sizzling pan to the stove eye. 

“Sounds better than yer regular cookin’,” Raph jeered back, reaching around his shell to grab the orange juice from the counter. “Dun’ matter anyway. Leo and Splinter are gonna give ya a lot worse when they realize you’ve been fuckin’ around the lair again.”

Instead of showing Raph the broadside of his tongue or ducking his head in guilty shame, Michelangelo blinked and gave a puzzled frown. “LH isn’t here, dude. And my, um…I’m not. On, right now.”

Right as he was saying that, Raph realized he wasn’t wearing either a long shirt or sweatpants to hide any...er, transformations, meaning Mikey wasn’t the culprit for his rude awakening. He huffed and inhaled, trying to pinpoint it again, but the smell of sugar, grease and the last vestiges of Mikey’s signature confused his nose even more. 

“Donnie jump on his, then? That sucks, means he’s gonna be a bitch fer two weeks,” Raph guessed, picking the next logical conclusion with a shake of his head. Firmly in the middle of whatever bullshit nature had decided to enact on them, Donatello’s ‘heats’ were more bad cases of PMS than raging dick fever. He’d be cuddly and touch starved for an hour or two, then spend the rest of the night in his lab in self-imposed isolation. 

The entire thing was dramatic and drawn out, in Raph’s opinion. He much prefered whatever form of “faux dominant” led him to beat his dick to a near pulverized state the last few seasons.

"Donnie's in the Nexus with dad, dude, don't you remember? He went to set up that comms link between here and Usagi's, and dad wanted to visit Daimyo." Mikey told him, tossing a glance over his shoulder and a pinch of something into the pan that made Raph’s eyes water across the room. 

“Thought they came home las’ night?”

“Mm-mm, they stayed to, uhm…’send out connection spores, just in case?’...that’s what this text says, anyway.”

Right, he did remember now- he’d left to watch a UFC fight at Casey’s and gotten night-night drunk immediately after they left for the dimensional gate. Raph smirked to himself as he stirred his Tropicana and Cheerio’s, opened his mouth to reply-

“Of course he doesn’t remember, Mikey. He came home singing the National Anthem at the top of his lungs.”

-and snapped his teeth together with an audible, irritated click in the next moment, dropping his spoon into his bowl with a splash and turning to glower at his oldest brother. 

“Hey, Leo…”

“Mornin’ ta you too, Fearless.” 

Leonardo met his hot bronze gaze unflinchingly, face stony behind his blue mask. He’d brought the tension with him, tight energy cracking around him like a force field.

“Good morning, Michelangelo. And you, don’t call me that.” Leo barely blinked in response to Raph’s answering face and powered into what was promising to be a truly ass-biting lecture. “You didn’t ask me could you go to Casey’s last night. I came out of meditation and had no idea where you were. How many conversations do we need to have about this, Raphael?”

Raph tried really, really hard not to curl his lip, but A, he was being bitched at early in the morning, and B, this type of shit was always hilarious coming from someone in Leo’s particular _situation._

“Tha’s where yer wrong. I knocked on yer damn door forever and ever, ya never answered. Guess ya were too busy sextin’ with Fuzzy Wuzzykins,” he shot back, crossing his arms smugly while Mikey tried (and failed) to cover a snort of laughter. 

Cold anger ignited in Leonardo’s eyes, directly stoking the coals in Raph’s own chest. “That doesn’t even warrant a response,” he replied icily. “My question does, though. How many times do we have to discuss this until you understand the concept of permission?”

So that was the tone he was gonna take.“Many as we need ta have fer you to realize I ain’t seven,” Raph snapped, “unlike some people, Junior.” 

He couldn’t help it! The entire kitchen smelled like a diaper by that point, tainted acrid and pissy with anger, but _he_ was the toddler? 

Leonardo’s eyes narrowed to thin brown slits in his forest green face. Briarknots filled Raph’s stomach- half fear, half anticipation- as he stretched a hand past to rip a banana off the holder with so much force, the damn thing almost peeled itself right then. 

“You think you can say and do whatever you want because of what’s happening to us,” Leo said darkly, lowly. “That wasn’t the case before and it isn’t now. I’m the leader of this family for a reason, Raphael. Don’t make me remind you of why.”

Sour annoyance blossomed into true anger at the realization that his brother was practically threatening him over a stupid UFC fight. 

"Who tha fuck're you-?!"

"My _second_ in command," Leo cut him off loudly, "my _younger_ brother. That's who I'm talking to. If you have an issue, you know who to go to about it." 

Mute with shock, Raph could only rumble as Leo turned away from him and addressed the room at large. "We're still having practice today. Donatello can catch up on what he misses when he comes back- I expect to see both of you in 20 minutes." 

He turned to exit the kitchen, half-mushed banana and crinkled water bottle in hand, and neither Raph nor Mikey exhaled until they heard the scrape of the dojo screen sliding home into the lock. 

“He seem, uh...dangerously on edge to you too, dude?” Mikey hedged after a while, letting out a noise that was more of an anxious hiccup than a giggle. "It's not really like Leo to go around threatening people, even you."

Raph guttered out a hard breath, trying to shake the violent potential out of his muscles. "Glad you got the same vibe I did," he muttered. "Dunno and I dun'care. Leo's got more mood swings than a fucking kindergarten, but he's always tryin' to act so high an' mighty."

Mikey chewed his thumb digit worriedly. "...Did you smell that, though?" he said, after a minute, voice low enough to nearly be a whisper. "He smelled… different? Strong, but wrong." He shook his head and picked up the spatula again. "I think it might happen today, dude."

It was Raph's turn to snort. "For his sake, I hope the fuck it does."

Donatello could tell them lots of things about why their reproductive systems decided to go haywire when they turned 17, but he couldn't tell them why the shit was happening so strangely and out of order.

Raph popped first, then Mikey, then Donnie, but while their bodies and scents changed to match whatever electric boogaloo their hormones were doing, Leonardo stayed resolutely unswayed. 

That milky, childish smell clung to him firmly and refused to be sloughed off, even as their littlest brother got his back broken in every cycle and Usagi sniffed around with increasing interest. Raph didn’t know what was weirder- knowing that his older brother probably wanted to fuck, and couldn’t, or enduring Mikey’s moans and whimpers through the walls. 

"You teasing him about it all the time doesn’t help,” Mikey chided. “If it was you, you’d be ready to burn the city down.”

Raph harrumphed and attacked his bowl with more vigor- apparently, he only had 20 minutes to eat before he got hit with yet another lecture. “Yeah well it ain’t me, it’s him. And he’s ‘sposed ta be so much better, right?”

Mikey wet a sponge and swabbed the counter a few times. “I’m pretty sure Leo’s gonna pop today,” he affirmed, grinning again. “Then he’ll be top alpha for sure, and you guys can really rip each other’s throats out instead of just pretending all the time!”

Raph flicked a curse and a juice-sodden Cheerio at him before reluctantly making his way to the dojo, where slave-driver waited on tenterhooks, he was sure, to make his morning a living hell.

* * *

It had to be the absolute dumbest shit they’d ever fought about, but Raphael would be damned if he gave an inch of ground on the subject. Practice was forgotten in lieu of him and his brother facing off...over form positions, of all things. 

“Guys…” Mikey wheedled, visibly battling the urge to either flee the dojo or try to stop further bloodshed. “S-seriously, it’s just a move set…”

And like, sure. Most of Raph agreed with him. But the part that had harbored a pin-needle headache behind his eye all morning, the part that was fucking nauseous from the stench of curdling, sour childhood-- that part didn’t care, and knew they weren’t on _goddamn Tiger form, Leonardo._

“Yeah,” Raph ground out, scales itching with anger, “a move set we ain’t on yet. Cause we’re still learnin’ _fuckin’_ Oxen.” 

If looks could kill, Leo would have turned him into a bloody splotch. “We’ve spent too long on Oxen, as I said,” he repeated, talking in that slow way that meant he was fighting not to feed his brother his teeth. “It’s a niche form, and generic training should focus on moves we can all-”

“It’s a sai form, that’s why yer givin’ it shit!” Raph barked. Again, fucking OBVIOUS what the real issue was, but if this was going to represent it, so be it. “I’m tired a’ sword forms every day.”

“The majority of us use long-range weapons,” Leo retorted dismissively, eyes glittering as mean as Raph had ever seen. “If you want to specialize in Oxen, study it individually like you did with Mantis.”

Mikey, bless him, tried one last time to intervene. “I don’t mind learning more Ox-”

“Donnie’s still learnin-”

“DONATELLO uses a bo, and will benefit from us moving on to Tiger.” 

Nothing, NOTHING pissed him off quite like being talked over, and that was the second time Leonardo had done it the span of twenty goddamn minutes. Raph figured he honestly couldn’t be blamed for what happened next, but he was sure someone would find a reason. When Leonardo turned to show him his shell, he...well, he meant to turn him back around, at first. 

“Hey-!” 

“How dare-?!”

“Ohsh-!”

It- yeah, it turned into a shove. It was deserved, although the outcome was...less than stellar. Leonardo only stumbled a little, but from his expression when he turned around, you’d think Raph had spat in his face. The tension in the room flared to an all new height, and as their combined scents clogged the very corners of the dojo Mikey jumped and shrieked, trying to stop Leo’s inevitable retaliation. 

“Leo DON’T-”

Raph gasped and flinched back, clutching the side of his cheek. He thought he’d been slapped, until he pulled his hand away and found red in the creases of his fingers. It didn’t really hurt, but the fact that it happened at all...the shock was enough to almost make him kneel. _‘Did he just...am I…?’_

“...did’ju jus’ fuckin’ draw on me?” he gaped, incredulous. The question was a dumb one. The proof was in Leo’s grip, a sword with the edge reddened along one side, clearly whipped from the sheath in a moment where every ounce logic and sense had deserted him.

Leo looked stunned as well, staring down at his arm like it had moved without his input. Two very different emotions dawned on them then- queasy guilt, for Leo- and vindictive glee for Raph, as he realized he now had free reign to _tenderize_ his brother. 

_Guess we ain’t learnin’ Tiger after all._ He started towards Leonardo with murderous intent in his fists, but the universe had one more surprise for them. Michelangelo didn’t even get a chance to jump in again- before the first punch was thrown, Leonardo clutched his sides, dropped to his knees, and started to vomit. 

* * *

_“*So he just...threw up? In the dojo?*”_

“All over fuckin’ everywhere,” Raph grumbled, thumbing a smudge away from his screen that kept distorting Donatello’s face. The genius turtle and their father were still in the Nexus fiddling with some technology or the other, but they apparently had it functional enough for shell cell FaceTime.

Raph turned on his side, shifting further into the couch to block a bit of the glare from the TV. “It was the nastiest shit, Donnie. Didn’t even help us clean up, ran straight up to his room. Been there all day.”

_“*Be nice, Raph, cut him a break for once. It’s going to be hard enough dodging two full fledged alphas from now on.*”_ The pixely image of Donnie stared at him with a judgy flair. _“*Did you at least go check on him afterwards?*”_

Raph balked at the question. “Donnie, he _cut_ me, why the fuck-”

_“*We caught you trying to steal one of Mikey’s heat shirts when he first presented, don’t even try it. Irrationality is your default state even without your blood running hot,*”_ Donnie reminded him, flat and unimpressed. “ _*Go make sure he hasn’t given himself a heart miasma via erection, please? You don’t even have to open the door. Take Mikey with you, if he’s far enough along.*”_

“Yeah, that’s not-” A ton of rumbling and shuffling above his head stopped his rebuttal cold. Raph glanced over his shoulder and was confused to see Mikey trundling down the stairs, duffel bag in hand.

An uneasy feeling clumped together in his gut. “Lemme call you back, Donnie…”

_“*I’ll call you- the network’ll be in and out all night. Later, Raph.*”_

They ended the call right as Mikey reached the security door. Raph hauled himself off the couch to go confront him. “Hey,” the red-banded ninja began, taking in the bag slung over his shoulder. “Ya going somewhere?”

Mikey fidgeted and rubbed at his freckles. “Yeaaah...I think I’m gonna head to LH’s. Leo’s about to pop and uh...it’s kinda throwing me off.”

_Yeah, no shit!_ Raph leveled him with a bewildered noise. “Throwin’ you off? Mikey, you know we’re gonna kill each other if ya-” 

_Blood, sea salt, oranges, honey…_ Once again, his nose had to clue him in. Raph’s words cut off with a click as Mikey winced and a tantalizing snatch of needy scent filtered into the air. Belatedly, Raph realized Michelangelo was wearing sweats-- dark sweats. _The_ sweats. 

_Fuck. We must’a set him off._ The throbbing pain hiding behind his eye spread to envelop his entire skull, almost making him groan with dizziness. His legs tingled as a feeling like a hot cramp knotted up in his pelvis, pressing hard against his plastron. 

“Dude?” Mikey squeaked, dragging nervous digits down his arms. Raph opened his eyes, watched the blue of his baby brother’s iris slowly get swallowed by the pupil, and forced himself to take two steps back he hadn’t known he’d taken. 

_Not...no. I ain’t a monster._ He had to swallow before speaking again. “G’head,” Raph grunted, nearly cracking his ankle with the effort it took to turn away. “I’ll figure it out.”

Mikey’s reply was equal parts relief, desire and disappointment. “Th-thanks, dude...” 

The moist cloud of scent he left behind lingered for minutes. Raph lasted five of them before rushing to the laundry room to jerk off. 

* * *

The second time he shuddered awake, Raphael did so from a dream where he was drowning. Strange thing was, he’d never been happier about it- every choked inhale seemed to stroke him from the inside out. The burn of suffocation squirmed in his veins and burned like fire...and it felt so _good_ , mounting pressure and tightness with some unreachable peak that just kept climbing. He felt like he had to pop, paint the entire lair red with his insides, and GODS, how fucking good it would feel-

“SHIT!”

The huge thud above his head woke him up and the yell sent him tumbling to the floor. Reflexes aged with experience and a healthy dose of PTSD had him stumbling into the lower hall before he even knew what he was responding to, gripping the hilt of one sai at the bottom of the stairs while he waited for his memory to return. Absently, he dragged his wrist under his nostrils and noted they were running. 

It was..hot? In the Lair? Fuck, was it hot? What was that smell? What month was it? Was he wet? _No, sweating._ Mikey..Mikey was gone, Leo was sick. Donnie and Splinter.. _what is that smell?_

“Leo?” Raph shouted, still ¾ asleep, using his cell to light the area. The numbers onscreen told him it was 4 AM and the security door lights were still in the ‘locked’ position, so they weren’t being attacked physically. The cloying feeling made him think of another possibility, so he turned for the stairs to alert his brother. 

“Le- _hhheh_ -Leo...th-think ‘ss ‘nuther gas leak’nna tunnels...m-might be tha Foot..”

There was no response, so he started climbing. Five steps up, he flicked his tongue out to wet his mouth, and discovered blood on his skin instead of mucous. 

_‘What…?!’_

_Blood...marshmallow...green soil...vanilla._

_‘...Oh. Oh…fuck. fuck fuck. It’s..can’t be..Mikey?’_ No tang of orange, no buttery hint of honey. This was a new smell all its own, one he...Gods help him, but Raph sank to his knees on the stairs and almost _whimpered_ with the need to _bury_ himself in that scent, to the root and all, and flood it with as much of himself as it could bear.

By the time he made it to the top of the stairs and Leo’s door, Raphael felt like he’d ascended a hurricane. The stiff erection being rubbed raw against his slit knew what his brain was still strugging to accept-- somehow, Leader-Leo, best of the best, had popped the wrong direction, and was somehow a _fucking_ _omega._

Getting to the door was a dream. Pushing it open...well. The bulk of that scent hit, and Raph and his higher functioning politely parted ways. 

Leonardo was positively _writhing_ on his sheets in the dark, sawing holes in the thin cotton with his shell from the force as he ground himself into the mattress. The blanket was tangled around his ankles and sweat pooled like lakes in the crevices of his limbs- he’d tried to cover himself and nearly died of heat stroke. Dry, desperate gasps- sobs, really- burst from his throat with every exhale. 

“L-Leo,” Raph stuttered, letting the door swing shut behind him...trapping them in sweltering darkness. With the light from the kitchen gone, his brother’s cell lit the space like a lantern, open and abandoned by his palm. “Th-the fuck, Leo…?!”

Leonardo turned his face away from the door with a tortured sound, dragging his mask half off in the process. “Ih..-t. It h-hurt-hurts. I…” He had to pause and be wracked with a shiver that made the bedposts creak. “Ooh..Us. Usagi was...h-helping, b-but...Cuh. Co-connec-nection…” 

It didn’t even look like he had the strength to lie about his situation. Raph had a brief, horrible memory of the night Mikey presented- blood all over the couch, raw, gaping flesh, cries of pain and confusion- and understood somewhere past thought what needed to happen. 

Their eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness. Raph could both see and smell the wet spot spreading on Leonardo’s bedspread, and _oh…_ Oh. 

He couldn’t. Not Leo. _He’s never gonna forgive me if I...w-we’re family…_

The scent, though. The scent was reminding him of the little moments no one wanted to talk about, the moments that blurred boundaries they thought were ironclad. It reminded him of the time Donnie thought he was snoozing on the couch, and rubbed off on his leg ‘till he came...the time with Mikey’s shirt, and the time he’d found one of his own red masks hastily thrown in the sink, reeking of oranges and pleasure. 

“‘Sagi can’t help ya through yer phone, Leo,” Raph told him, hardly knowing where his sudden calm came from and very quickly ceasing to care. They both felt it- that dark shiver in his words that promised fragility...and steel. He’d lost control of his inhibitions. Neither of them were quite sure what was keeping him by the door. 

“Mikey says that shit hurts like a bitch.”

He knew what was coming before it happened. Leo, curled up in the fetal position and trying not to cry, squared his dumbass shoulders and moved like he was thinking about sitting up. It was almost funny. 

“It...it’s n-not as-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Raph snapped, shocking them both into momentary silence. The anger was quick and strong, but less hot and more pointed than he was used to. It rose from somewhere near his roiling groin and settled there just as fast. 

As out of it as he was, Leonardo was still _Leonardo._ He raised his chin to glare as best he could through the panting, and Raph felt _more_ excited. “Watch your _mouth_ ,” he hissed, and it really would’ve been effective if the end didn’t break off into a soft noise that correlated with a sharp, spicy spike in pure arousal. “Don’t tell me what the _fuck_ to do.”

Watching him cuss and squirm...Raph was seconds away from palming himself. “Yer tha omega,” he smirked, finally calling out the elephant in the room. “Ain’t that what yer into? Looks like ya really want sum-”

“I _want_ Usa,” Leo groaned, probably intending to sound cold and only coming off as bratty. He sank his teeth into his lip after, like he hadn’t meant to say that. 

“Ya’ll fucked?” Raph snarled. That was news, and not the happy kind. 

“W-we’ve...Go away, R-Raphael,” Leo growled, catching himself with another low moan. “M-make fun of m-me about this t-t-om - _ah!”_ The stench of blood increased tenfold as he bent his body into the bed with a low scream. Raph was literally and simply bombarded. 

_Cream, loam, salt, syrup vanilla marshmallow greensoil mint milk sugar..._ heat and soft flesh, deeper things he craved for more than anything at that moment. 

“Lemme help you,” he heard himself ask, pressing numbed fists to the bed. _When had he moved to the bed?_ He was seeing everything through a haze of red and white. “Lemmehelpyou lemmehelp you lemme-” His mouth was full of saliva. His fucking _teeth_ tingled. 

In the end, biology decided for them, the way it decided everything. One last, tearing cramp ripped through Leonardo with the force of a tidal wave, so bad that when Raph offered a sympathetic hand he reached for it and squeezed like his life depended on it, letting the pillow drink his noises. 

When he lifted his head, Raph was so scared (and hard, gods help him), he felt like he was going to pass out. “L-Leo…?”

Seeing his brother in agony had dimmed a good portion of his arousal, so Raph had time to stupidly wonder where Leo’s iris had gone before the older turtle was pulling him into a filthy, open-mouthed kiss. 

“Mm!-...mmmph…”

The inside of his mouth tasted the way his desperation smelled, and the cocktail of hormones and chemicals running rampant in Leo’s saliva hit Raphael like a line of cocaine. He didn’t remember who pulled and who pushed, but they heaved as a unit and were both enveloped by Leo’s bed in moments, trading tongue like oxygen. 

For once, there was nothing left to think about. There was only...this, the breathy sounds of the fertile thing beneath him when he nosed into their shoulder and bit-- _down_ \--HARD, the way it triggered another gush of heat and want from the tender place pressed against him-

“Oh-Oh, fuck. Yah-yes, yes, Raph-ay-EL-!” The last syllable turned into a yelp as Raph leaned forward into Leo’s contortions, letting him grind raw, slippery flesh into hard plating and throbbing length. The slide was slick and mindblowing, teasing like the flame at the head of a match...or the head of his cock, flushed with blood and painting every close surface with threads of sticky precum. 

“Sound like y’wan me t’fuck ya, Leo,” Raph hissed into the collar of puncture wounds and hickeys he was chewing into his brother’s throat. “Dun’ think Fuzzy’d like it…”

“I...w-we...I n-need...No,” Leo moaned. New heat was making him _wild_ , and it was _delicious_ to witness, breaking all his stony control and turning him into a slutty mess. “R-Raph. F-Fuck. Fuck me I need…”

“Need wha?” Raph cooed, reaching down to drag two digits through slick folds that twitched and dribbled onto his fingers. “Need me ta stretch tha pussy out nice an’ slow? I know it hurt openin’ up...wan’me to kiss it bettah, Leo?”

Much as he wanted to hoist Leo against the headboard and commence to making him _howl,_ a secondary instinct kept driving him to tease, push, escalate until he had complete submission from the whiny thing in his grip, to make up for all the years this _omega_ gave him shit.

“I-it, you... _uuhhhn,_ Raph, Gods,” Leo sighed, rocking down onto his fingers with a wince and a sharp jerk of his hips. It had to hurt- the shit was minutes old- but Leo being Leo, he hid whatever discomfort in the wrinkle of his brow as Raph relented and started to fingerfuck him, deep and steady. Four pushes in, and he was wet down to his wrist, rubbing his cock along his brother’s thigh for every greedy squelch of his pussy. 

“Y’sure, Fearless?” Raph grinned, rotating his wrist between pumps just to hear what kinds of noises Leo could make. “Dun’ wanna hurt ya. Think we oughta take a hour’re two, get’cha ready ta scream-”

He knew what he wanted to do, but apparently Leonardo wasn’t done surprising him. Instead of agreeing to slow, sweet treatment, Leo growled a dissent and exploded into a flurry of motion. Caught off guard, Raph didn’t think to fight back until he was already being straddled like a cycle, bracing both his and the majority of Leonardo’s weight on his legs and lower shell. 

“F-Fuhck-...” 

“I can t-take it,” Leo shivered, groping blindly for him in the dark- Raph moaned a little when he found his prize, fully exposed and leaking on his stomach. “I...I want it.”

A surge of blood rushed to Raph’s head with the position change, alongside a truckload of pheromones that very quickly reminded him what he was, and why he was here. He grabbed his brother’s waist and settled more firmly between his spread thighs, patting the thick head of his cock against Leo’s pulsing clit and clutching mauve petals to torment them both. 

“RaPH-!”

“Ask me fer it then,” he demanded, still teasing, sliding the slit in his cockhead up and down, back and forth, round that little nub, “since ya want it so fuckin’ bad-”

He wanted to hear it. Leo needed to say it, goddammit.

“I swear to _Gods_ , Raphael!” Leo snapped finally, scowling down at him with blazing brown eyes. “Fuck me now or you’re grounded, and I’m going to find Usagi!” 

He tried to make it a bark, but Raph heard the whine underneath, the girlish keen edging towards despairing. On the next pass around Leo’s clit, he aimed his thrust downward and, with Leo’s shaky guidance, pushed at his opening until the flesh started to give way. 

_Ohhhfuck..._ once he felt the first little clench, it was over. Raphael made a noise that was far less human than he was used to as the very last thoughts fled his head, abandoning him to the red heat in his brain- his eyes went glassy in the dark. He slammed his hips up, and gave his _omega_ what the fuck he wanted, plowing forward with a wicked pace that had him fully seated in seconds. 

“OH-!”

He lost his mind to the tightness as he fought to fuck his brother open, battering past ring after ring of fluttering muscle, every dip and rise in his walls to get to the very core of him-- deeper, deeper, deeper...all the pressure that was building that day flowed out, rushing through his veins and coagulating into punches from below like a fucking metronome. The rut made him stupid, hormone-locked and concerned with nothing but the physical as his dick rocked into the vicegrip heat.

“Ummmph! Hmmm…”

Leonardo stiffened up like he’d been touched with a live wire, and m-o-a-n-e-d like he’d been mortally wounded, broken into a million different pieces, rigid as every nerve in his spine sang the hallelujah chorus. The only reason it wasn’t a full out scream was because, as usual, Leonardo, but it would’ve been impossible to hide the gluttinous sticking noise it made when the base of Raph’s cock met the edge of his entrance or the slap of skin on skin- the fluids between them could mop the kitchen. 

“Hhhh-aaaah! Ahh, nn-aaaah…” he whined, body surrendering to the brutal rocking thrusts trying to climb inside of him. Two sets of fingers darted down periodically to smooth at his clit like eager explorers, mapping out every new crevice, dip and swell of his button while leaving no path unmarked. Pretty soon, it was all he could do to just ride out the storm that was his red masked sibling, choking back sobs while the peak of a mountain he didn’t even know existed loomed ahead. 

To Raph’s credit, he tried to remember that he wasn’t screwing his own careless fist until liftoff- meaning, he tried his damndest to ignore his body telling him to roll Leo over and rut into him until he was full of cum, broken and sore around load after load. 

Talking helped keep him from dissolving into a mindless beast- more of one, anyway- and also had the interesting side effect of rippling through the heavenly clench currently wrapped around his cock. 

And...maybe he was talking because he just wanted to fucking talk. Maybe he had some shit to say, and didn’t want Leo thinking of anybody else while Raph had him spread wide. 

“Y’know I dun’ give a _damn-”_ a rough, deep thrust that made Leo yelp and arch- “if ‘Sagi had yer ass first? Shit don’t mean nuthin’. Yer pussy’s _mine_...gunna make you cum like a fuckin’ girl, have ya screamin’ for me right here at home…”

Leo clutched for his shoulders and threw his head back, panting weakly. The pain from the coring penetration faded on every perfect, scratching pass down the front wall of his gut, aided by the sopping state of his cunt and the nasty words his sibling was spewing. 

“Nnnaaaahh…”

“F-uck, you feel so good,” Raph murmured, hissing through his teeth on each downward plunge. “Ssso good, sooo good, Leo, shit…” 

Something dark and dangerous was stirring in his brain with every new layer of wet scent Leo added to their joining; something with talons and a hunger he didn’t want to linger on. But for that moment, Raphael was happy to let the teenage side of his brain cut his hearty moans with lucid snickers as he reveled in both the feeling of being balls deep, and having his uptight older brother whimpering in his lap. 

“S-Shut up,” Leo managed, slapping towards his mouth in a discombobulated attempt to make him stop chattering. This wasn’t... _Gods yes, it does, it feels so goood…_.but this wasn’t who he wanted and not who it should’ve been, so he tried to block out his brother’s voice and the scent of nickels and whiskey, even as his body screamed for release with no relief. 

His hormones were smothering him like a wet blanket, sobbing at the back of his mind and trying to drag him somewhere he wouldn’t let himself go ( _not here, not with him, not-_ ). Riding hurt his legs, but Leonardo was used to endurance trials and in this position Raphael couldn’t reach his neck anymore. Sitting up let him maintain a modicum of control and clear-headedness. 

When he’d been under teeth, earlier...suffice to say, the _horrendous_ things he’d wanted to admit and beg for were still swimming dangerously beneath the surface of his mind, and he’d rather get this done before too many more of Raph’s thrusts could unearth them. 

But... _ohhh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuuuck…._ the corners of his mouth twitched as a familiar sensation puddled in his knees and spine, tingling out from the pinpoint where his first digit was hooked and scrubbing. That was more like what he remembered before his body betrayed him- safe, manageable, tepid. It was almost over. 

“Mmmm’coming...don’t stop, j-just- ah..”

Beneath him, Raphael’s eyeridges came together in a decidedly non-pleasurable expression. Sure, Leo was clenching and rolling, but from the two awkward, season-driven quickies he and Donatello shared (plus a drunk confession or two from Mikey), there was no way Leo should have been close to done. The swelling pressure at the base of his cock was barely a nuisance and hardly close to a need.

“Y’sure?” he huffed. He didn’t stop the motion of his hips through his doubt, and pretty soon he had to press fingers against the sweaty willow swirls of Leo’s shell to keep him anchored while he thrashed and contorted, clit jumping hot and wet between his fingers. 

“ _Nnn-Ooh_ ! Yes! Ye-ah, _ow_ , ow-ah…” Leo clenched, shook, keened- and then flinched hard as a wave of overstimulation tore through his outer folds, following the pleasure much too quickly. He- he came, at least...what he always knew was coming. Instead of clearheadedness, however...

The next thrust sawed a bit too deep with too little resistance, locking them together and squeezing Leo’s clit against their plastrons until he yelped. 

“Ow! Fuck, Raph!”

“FUck, okay, shit...” 

Raph went to try and pull out, but they were farther along than he thought. The swelling at the base caught Leo’s puffy entrance, wracked with spasms still. The tugging pain made Leo shift away and close his legs- which, in his ancient bedframe, meant he overcorrected onto his back and practically pulled Raphael on top of himself. 

“Shit!”  
“-A _h-...!”_

Call it turtle luck, bullshit, serendipity- or simply biology- but when Raphael went to right himself and apologize, pushing upwards like _that_ moved him into his brother in a way that made them both forget how to _breathe._

“AO _hh_ h…”

Leonardo hated the noise that leapt out of his throat at the new position, but he hated more that Raphael wasn’t _moving_ . Any and all thoughts of keeping a clear head trickled out of his ears as a feeling like a fiery claw twisted through him, locked onto the deepest, wettest center of his desires and _yanked._

“Ffffuuuck…” That pull was echoed in the new wave of need Raph bent down to drink in from his skin. Dopamine and other blissy chemicals he didn’t know names for wrapped around his senses and started to squeeze, juicing sense from his brain like an orange. “Yeah...there it is.”

Leonardo shuddered with every cell. That peak he’d ignored earlier was back in the form of a wandering ache in his navel and an airiness in his head that felt like falling off the Empire State. All of a sudden, he wasn’t just resigned to continue...he wanted to. Was excited to...needed to. 

“Ya might’a come, but ya ain’t cum,” Raph told him nastily. “Right?”

“I-”

_Ssspppplurrtch. ‘There it is.’_

“Look’it me.” 

The command traveled along his entire nervous system. Leonardo found he couldn’t argue...not with his entire room drenched in the smell of copper and charcoal. 

“You want me ta fuck you sum’more?”

_Yesss…hurts...make it feel good. Whatever you have to do...._ When he nodded, Raph tilted him back the rest of the way, cradling his head and pressing in until their knees shook and he was kicking from the heat, pressure, wideness of being opened up.

“Thought ya’d never ask, Fearless.” his little brother teased, all husk and gravel. He lit up with fireworks when Leo fell onto his back and finally gave him everything, ceding to be fucked like a real omega. If this was the one and only time he’d get to fuck the firstborn this way, he was going to make the most of it. 

He knew he was gone when he bent to get positioned and the room moved too slowly at the edges like he was watching through a slopping glass. At that angle, when he gripped himself and rutted in, he brutalized Leo’s gspot on the way to batter what felt like his cervix on the first push-pull. 

Leonardo arched up and back, half in panic and half in shock, and _screamed._

_‘So fucking deep...so fucking hot…_ So. Fucking. _Tight_. Distantly, Raph felt a sweat break out over his body and, past the all-consuming drum beat in his cock, felt his cheeks spread into a smile as the shreds of his sanity relished the way Leo’s pussy quivered when he talked and clenched like it didn’t want to let him go. The crashing of his hips ratcheted up-- he felt like a cup nearly over full, on the edge of spilling with just a little-bit- more.

“Y’like it when I tell ya how good this feels, huh Leo? Fuckin’ pe _rfectionist_.”

Leonardo stopped biting his lips raw to babble out plea after curse after cry, losing the battle with his reactions in favor of having his hands manacled above his head for more of that perfect grind, inviting it to take him apart.. “Rah...Rah…”

It felt like the edge of insanity. So much sensation, so much need. He was flailing, falling, tumbling backwards with no floor in sight. The rush raced up from his toes, through his stomach, up to the top of his head- _it was going to kill him,_ and still his inner walls fluttered, starved and unsatisfied in a way he didn’t understand. 

“Cause it does, y’know. Feels so..-” _Sspplurtch. “-_ so..” _Sspplurtch._ “-so...FUcking...good, hnnn-” _SspplurtchSspplurtchSspplurtch._

Something heady gathered in the pit of Leonardo’s throat, spicier and more heady than his vanilla-green sweetness. It smelled like summer and felt like grass growing under Raph’s flesh. His thrusts hit a frenzied pace and started stuttering as he mouthed half-baked promises into Leonardo’s shoulder. 

“Fuh-fuck, Oh, god. Ke-keep taking it, fuck yes. G-gunna make you so f-fuckin’ messy inside…”

Now that he’d said it it was all he could see when he closed his eyes- Leo, fucked pliant and stupid, bruised pussy overflowing with spunk, spurts and spurts of it until it soaked his strange new organs and made him smell like Raphael inside and out. 

“Tha’s w-what you want? Want yer ‘second-in-command’ ta put a buncha brats in ya? Keep look’ at me with them pretty eyes...tell me ya want this pussy filled up...”

“ _Ye-hesss,”_ Leonardo slurred, practically drooling at the image and having no more room to be ashamed of it. His toes curled behind his brother’s shell and the last few centimeters of resistance gave way, and the root of Raph’s engorged (knot? They weren’t quite sure, reptiles and all…) dug itself between his lips, threatening a deluge. "Yesyesyes, please, pl _eeeaseniisaan, ple-!"_

Hips snapped, relentless, nailing his womb and popping his cervix open with every sweet slide. He wanted it, wanted to feel his deepest spots drenched in warmth.

_I want to...I want to come. I want to comeIwantotcome oh Gods I want to-_

_‘Fuck. Fuck, I’m gonna...shit he’s mine, fuck I’m gonna make him mINE-”_

“I think, I think I’m go- Ra-Raph, fuck, c-can’t-”

“G’head,” Raohael snarled, wrenching Leo's head back by the jaw. Talking left him in danger of biting his tongue off as his entire body throbbed with his cock, but he knew his brother needed it. “G’mme somewhere tight’ta put this fuckin’ load so I c’n knock ya up, ‘ghead-”

A balloon of icy pressure, and then Leonardo was there. The sheets on the bed bunched around his limbs as his convulsions tore them from the corners. Down his thighs, up his chest- he wailed and arched, squealing, riding a razor wire of pain and deep, raking satisfaction. When he hit the ground, it flattened him and left him silent in its wake, aware of only the involuntary spasms in his cunt and the hot helium feeling in his lungs. 

“NNN-NII-SAn-! N-Nii-! N-AA-ahhnn! NNnnn-hnnn-ahhh…”

The sudden chokehold wrung tight around him, screams and pleas floating on a haze of pheromones and ecstasy- Raph felt his climax run him down without mercy. He hammered his knot in with aborted little thrusts until the edges were being lapped by his brother’s cunt- in, in, and he was i _n_ , locked against Leo’s core as the thought of swollen bellies and overstuffed wombs made him finally, _finally_ cum. 

“SSHI- ohshit, shiiit baby, jus’ like that...FUCK I love it, l-love it, l-love you- UH, fu-fuck! Uh! UH-!”

Raph crushed his pelvis to Leonardo’s hips and curled inwards as he shot his load so hard it almost blinded him, unbearably fucking good and complete agony all at once. Heat, hotter than anything before, and a tidal wave of sodden, clenching need...carnal pleasure might have made him roar when he baptized Leo’s insides with rope after rope of boiling cum, fucking each glob deeper until he was sure it caught, but the ringing in his ears drowned it out. 

“Ahh...oh...oh…”

Subsiding into the boneless aftermath was an affair ruled entirely by instinct. It didn’t matter who or where they were, how this started or what the morning would bring. Raph only knew that the warm humming in his veins wanted to curl around the omega in his grip, keep him safe and blissed out until his seed quickened. 

That was the thought he drifted off on, spooned against Leonardo’s back and massaging the area over his belly until slumber synchronized their ragged breathing. 

* * *

“Sequential steroidogenic hermaphroditic machinery”- that’s the first thing that came out of Donatello’s mouth when he stepped back through the Nexus two days later, right after “hello” and shortly thereafter, “what the actual fuck”? 

“Sequential steroidogenic hermaphroditic machinery”- once Mikey came home from LH’s and they were able to convince Leonardo to come out of his room, Donatello sat their entire dumbass family down and explained with unending patience that it would take years to determine exactly what TCRI blended into their DNA with the mutagen, and that it would make sense for an alpha type figure to bear children if those random genes decided to take reproduction into their own hands. 

Sequential steroidogenic hermaphroditic machinery. Donatello told them to think of it like that Jurassic Park movie, where the T-rex was made with poison dart frog and salamander and whatever the fuck else. If they had, for instance, clownfish DNA swirled around inside, it might recognize that there were only 4 of them, and think, “oh fuck, we’re dying out! We should make more of these!” 

And, according to Donatello, when there’s a lack of girl clownfish, the alpha male sheds his dick and turns into a female, for the good of the species, because best and brightest, _blahblahblah._ Or like when the queen bumblebee is HBIC, and no one else could lay eggs but her. 

Annoying story short, it took Raphael six tries to come close to pronouncing that long ass word, but he understood the gist of it.

“At least our changes aren’t permanent?” Donnie reasoned, in the face of his brother’s scowling ire. “You’ll go back to normal eventually.”

All of Donatello’s reasonings didn’t stop Leonardo from flipping his shit when, three weeks later, the x-ray revealed the cause of his breathing troubles and sudden weight gain (not to mention random digestive issues) and confirmed everyone’s worst nightmare. 

“Th-there...there’s a good chance it won’t be viable,” Donnie tells them then, pale around his neck as he helped ice Raphael’s throbbing eye. “If they don’t dissolve on their own, they’ll most likely not survive gestation.” Even then, Raph remembered thinking that there was a good possibility Donnie had no clue what the fuck he was talking about, to at least a significant degree. 

Donatello _also_ said that they had more human DNA than animal, so they’d have a longer gestation- you know, the gestation nothing was supposed to survive. 

So it was Donatello’s bullshit reasoning, technically, that led a heavy and _HIGHLY_ pissed off Leonardo to declare his ‘handicap’ not a big enough deterrent from taking a lonesome sabbatical into the Nexus- ‘ _not Usagi’s realm, Raph, and I’m going alone!’-_ but it was also Donatello’s genius, and Donatello’s spiffy connection network, that let Leo get in touch with them ten minutes after he went into _full motherfucking labor_ in some backwater jungle-ass realm, and an hour after the dinky town he’d been bunking in came under fire from some random clan/faction war. 

All in all, Raphael couldn’t decide whether he hated or loved Donatello as he carved his way through both an _actual_ thunderstorm (the irony wasn’t lost on him, he wasn’t a total dumbass thankyaverymuch) and tides of foes, in the dead of night, squinting down at the red dot flashing in his armband while pain, mud and torrential winds battered him from all sides. 

Oh yeah, and the rebels, thugs, morons, whatever they were. He didn’t care whose side they were on, or what and who they were fighting for. They didn’t matter to the monster raging in Raph’s brain, past the fact that they were serving as willing barriers between him and his (leader, pain-in-the-ass, vulnerable _omegaloverfriend_ ) pregnant brother, and clearly they felt the same way, since they jumped to attack him from every nook and cranny of some clap-trap village that was more swampwood than any other material. 

There were humans and there were mutants, a mix of each dressed in each sides’ colors and wielding their weapons, so Raphael took advantage of the opportunity and his lack of supervision to treat life like a video game and mow them down indiscriminately. He and his sai whistled a bloody, gleeful tune in the night, doing their damndest to paint his family’s initials on the side of every building he was cornered behind. 

Come to think of it, Raphael couldn’t figure out whether or not he hated or loved Leonardo, either (yeah, right. All he’d done the last few weeks was beg and plead for his brother to let...whatever it was happening, happen, because goddamit wasn’t their life hard enough?). 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, ‘M comin.” he jeered at the GPA dot, nearly losing his footing over a half-sunken bridge. Screams and the clashing sounds of battle echoed on the winds overhead, in the direction Leo’s cell tracker was leading him. _Where else? Figures he's in the thick 'a this shit._ The dot seemed to jump faster in response, bitching at him, and he almost threw the damn thing into the corpse-filled creek. 

“Great time fer a trip, huh Leo? Pop in, pop out. What tha fuck could go wrong, righ’?’ Raph raged, ignoring his immobilizing terror and the voice in his brain that waggled a finger and whispered _maybe this is how Leo feels when you run off half-assed._ Fucker was probably going to mention it, though with any luck he wouldn’t. 

He hit a sloping plaza made of pagodas, and realized it had been a while since anyone attacked him. Raph stopped to take stock of his surroundings and saw with a heartsick wrench of bile that most of the civilians he passed in the street were already dead. The middle of the village was largely abandoned, meaning Raph was following the big bosses up towards the shops and Inn. It made sense- Leo would have been at the Inn, making the lingering marauders in the lower areas he’d slaughtered ravagers and assholes picking through the ruins. 

_What if he’s dead? What if I didn’t...fuck. Fuck..._

He had to hold back vomit- and fearful tears- when he reached the Inn. Whatever dickweeds on the winning side of this raid had killed everyone outside, even the animals in the pens, and the barn was burning. Yells and masculine shouts were coming from upstairs. Raph swallowed his gorge and kicked in the door. 

Behind the bar, a mammalian mutant was being menaced by four reptilians with wickedly curved blades and the same yellow sash belt Raph had seen on the ones brutalizing villagers. Every human in the place was slumped or laid out, motionless. When the door hit the floorboards and their eyes met, Lizard-face #1 turned to bare his green maw and hiss. 

“Reptilian! Do you ascribe yourself to the proud Goarin Resurgency? Or do you, like these traitorous pig-bloods, choose to throw your lot with hairless fools?” He raised his blade like he was going to strike his captives, and at that point, what else could he do?

“Fuck. No wonder Leo liked it here,” Raph grumbled, rolling his eyes to the tempo of his migraine as he, once again, leapt forward to save some people who probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Sai apparently weren’t a thing in this world and they only had swords. Two blocks and a parry each later, Lizard-Faces numbers 1-4 were choking around the tunnels in their ribs and chests, the bartender and her friend were gone, and Raph was finally able to rush upstairs.

He wouldn’t have needed the phone. The entire stairway was drenched in blood, but underneath that, Leonardo’s cream and wet earth smell blared like an alarm bell. 

“No, please, wait noOO-!”

“Don’t touch- AAAHG!”

“Whu?”

“Halt, halt!”

Raphael felt like his life was the worst comedy sketch in the world, as the scene he stumbled into was one he’d heard echoed in many ransacked houses on the way. The entire upper level was the living area for the main family. The meatiest of the lizard men, who was wearing armor, coincidentally, crowded a cowering group of mutants around a bed, their human child...and _Leonardo_. 

Raph’s heart and rage screamed in equal measure to see him alive...but he wasn’t unhurt. His brother was the object the inn family were trying to protect, bless them. Raph was both blown and proud to see his brother with a sword in hand and scowl in place, despite being curled around a distended belly on a nest of bloody sheets and clothing, clearly in the throes of agonizing labor. 

“Raphael,” he breathed, when their gazes locked. The relief that broke across his face, even while he contorted in pain... _thank gods_ , that look said. _I’m sorry. I fucked up, but I trust you._ Raph could have dropped to his knees and kissed him right then. 

The same song and dance started again. King Lizard made a primal, threatening noise and stepped forward with his sword...that also had two blades, making it twice the width of a normal long-dagger. _Fuck._ “Who are you? Speak your allegiance.”

Well, shit. All video games had a boss battle, didn’t they, why they fuck should this one not? 

“I ain’t got no allegiance,” Raph told him brusquely. He jerked his chin towards the bed. “Ah came here fer him, but t’be honest, you an’ yer folks are real fucked in’na head.”

Lizard-Face Leader narrowed eyes at him the color of piss. “You disapprove of what we’ve done? You betray your ignorance to the cause of the Goarin Resurgency, reptilian. Your prize is death.”

He grabbed for the tails of Leo’s mask- punk bitch waited until another convulsion shook the turtle’s weapon from his grip. “You say you know this foreign carrier? Does he feel pity for these pig-bloods?” King Lizard spat disdainfully. “You both reek of humans. When you are dead, I will subdue your carrier- probably laden with some human’s whelp, I’ll cut it out myself."

With that, he hefted his sword, and Raphael found himself being charged by a 7 foot tall lizard in an Assassin’s Creed getup. His disbelief at the situation froze his limbs for a split second, but thankfully, the Alpha instinct sprinting through his veins and over the creases in his brain was full of enough vitriolic fury to ferociously meet his attack. 

His strikes were powerful, but raw and easy to maneuver around even for a non-guru like Raph. The real issue was that armor. The prongs of his sai skated off the rough plates and threw his rhythm off enough that he ended up pressed against the wall before long, gagging on the stench of swamp mulch and gore. 

A yell from the bed, broken at the end with a clenched gasp-

“PIVOT! Turn hi-him!”

There was no time to question whether or not his brother’s directive could be followed- having faced down the Shredder, this was not the way he intended to die, and whatever issues they might have had, he trusted his brother to guide him in fights. 

Raphael gave to his opponent’s advances, dropped his sai, and wrapped the asshole in a huge bear hug as he weakened his ankles and let them roll to the side, into the wall. He figured out Leo’s gamble when he felt the scratch of a blade against his carapace- only having seen them for a few seconds, King Lizard wouldn’t have taken their shells into account like a Foot soldier would. 

“H-AH!”

The thud of impact as Leonardo launched himself off the bed, straight into their adversary, and then a stunned gurgle when the katana slid home, right between Lizard-King’s ribs and the linear gap in his armor that of _course_ Leo saw. 

They slid to the floor with his fading body between them, staring past the curve of his neck into each other’s eyes wistfully. On the scale of things they’d had to stop, one egotistical jerk hardly registered as a lingering nightmare. 

“‘I’ll be fine, guys, don’t worry,’” Raph mocked gently, unable to resist letting his head dip forward to brush his nose against his brother’s. “You so mad at me you ferget about turtle luck?”

Tired as he was, Leonardo didn’t reject it. He closed his eyes and shivered, rocking with cramps. “Y-yes, because this was definitely the intended outcome...I’ve al-always wanted to be a hostage and s-see a revolution up cl-clo-a _hhh-!!!”_

The muscles in his plastron and legs flexed and rolled in one awful, ripping contraction, sending Leonardo scrambling away from King-Lizard’s corpse and threatening not to hurl...or howl. Raph shoved the body away and rushed to cradle him, acting as a bracing warmth against the agony. 

“F-Fuck, Oh-oh my god it-!!..”

“S’okay, I gotchu.”

In a cold facade of the night they shared, Leonardo clutched at him and writhed, not in pleasure this time, as his insides fought to expel...whatever they were about to see. The inn family rushed their little girl out of the room (probably best, so the kid wouldn't be further traumatized), but not before the mother dragged sympathetic, grateful fingers against the both of their faces.

Raph felt nothing but admiration for his brother- somehow Leo kept from screaming the Inn down as the (egg? Gods, he hoped it was an egg) ground its unstoppable passage through his contracting, too-tight cunt. His eyes glazed over as he bit off short gasps into his Raph’s soaked hoodie. For as much as it was worth, the scent of copper and coals did ease the pain just enough for him to wish it did more. 

“F-Fua _aah,_ ahhhHHH!!”

It went on for years...ages...eons. For the longest time, there was nothing but blood and membrane. Then, something gave...something tore, ripped, _popped_ , and Leo bit through his lip with a low, bawling bellow as the first egg completed its downwards bludgeon and plopped into the makeshift nest of dresses and bedsheets. The second one followed shortly after, accompanied by another spurt of thick red. 

“...H-holy shit…”

Raphael reached down to graze the surface of one with his fingertip while Leo panted into his shoulder, delirious with the sudden rushing drop in pain. He didn’t mind the smell, the gummy concoction of blood and afterbirth or the mess sluicing over his hand...nothing mattered except the tiny dark shapes shifting and twitching beneath the china-thin surface of the eggs. As he watched, he could see the outline of tiny limbs and fingers nuzzling into the warmth of his skin radiating through the slightly pulsing shell. 

“Huh…” Leo gurgled, laying his exhausted head against Raphael’s. “D-Donnie was wrong.”

“Y-yeah,” Raph rasped. “...ya upset about it, though?”

He hadn’t realized his organs were in a knotted twist until Leo replied. 

“...No. Let’s go home. All of us.”


End file.
